


Dinner For Two

by Fredwrites



Series: reasons wretched and divine [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Lots of dialogue, M/M, Parlay, so much dialogue!, two old dudes being sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 21:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fredwrites/pseuds/Fredwrites
Summary: Like the room, Merle instantly noticed a difference. John wore a sharp suit (as usual), but the cufflinks at his wrists were fancier, delicate and appeared to be engraved. They glinted in the low candlelight, as did his shoes: lacquered and polished. Most noticeably, his tie was an uncharacteristically bright shade of green. His hands were locked in a bridge upon which his chin rested. He leant against his elbows, a smile on his face, head tilted to the side like a cat.“Hello, Merle.”





	Dinner For Two

**Author's Note:**

> i will die for johnchurch
> 
> EDIT: just realised like one of the most crucial paragraphs of dialogue right at the end was just, gone, which is what happens when you publish fics at almost 4am so i added it back in

This Parlay was different to the other ones. The first thing to clue Merle in to this was the smell.

During every other Parlay Merle had been to, John’s small corner of the universe (a mundane office room) smelt of very little. Clean, sanitized, crisp. A lot like John, actually. This time, the smell hit Merle like a brick wall. It wasn’t a bad smell, Gods no, it was delicious _._ He’d never been hungry, ironically, during a Parlay before but now he could hear his stomach rumbling. The space smelt like a restaurant. Around him was the soft, burbling chatter typical of a public place. Merle wondered just how far John’s powers of manipulation extended.

He opened his eyes.

Warm light splashed over the walls, all a dark shade of red fringed with gold. The windows were wide and tall and revealed a stretch of sunset skyline, the one constant of their meetings, Merle supposed. In the centre of the room Merle was sat at a table, dressed with white cloth. The fabric looked so expensive and fine that Merle couldn’t identify it. On the table were two plates, wine-glasses and sets of cutlery-plus a candle flickering in a glass. Classy.

Finally, Merle situated his eyes directly ahead of himself and- there, in the opposite chair-John.

Like the room, Merle instantly noticed a difference. John wore a sharp suit (as usual), but the cufflinks at his wrists were fancier, delicate and appeared to be engraved. They glinted in the low candlelight, as did his shoes: lacquered and polished. Most noticeably, his tie was an uncharacteristically bright shade of green. His hands were locked in a bridge upon which his chin rested. He leant against his elbows, a smile on his face, head tilted to the side like a cat.

“Hello, Merle.”

For a moment, Merle was at a loss for words. He certainly felt...thrown off by this whole situation. In all of his many meetings with John, there had never been a change of scenery this drastic. But hey- roll with the punches. He cleared his throat, and snapped out of his daze.

“Well hey, John, long time no see! Man, uh...what’s up with the decor?”

John’s smile widened, and folded his arms against his chest. “Oh, you noticed?” he said.

“Kinda hard not to.” Merle glanced around again. With this second screening of the room, he noticed that the blurry shapes surrounding them resembled shadowy approximations of tables and other patrons. John was really going the mile to create an atmosphere.

He chuckled. “Mm, I suppose so. Do you like it?

“Of course! It’s real fancy-schmancy. I mean, I feel kinda…” Merle glanced down at his naked torso and cargo shorts; he had been relaxing at the beach before this, “...underdressed. Sorry for all this-well, I mean, it’s not like you’re not used to it.” The dwarf nodded at John’s attire. “Especially compared with you- hey, I like the tie!”

Starting a little, John’s eyes widened and he tapped the points of his fingers together lightly. “Well, thank you, Merle. I haven’t dressed up in some time. I felt you would appreciate the brighter colour- who knows, maybe next time I’ll be wearing floral print.” He smirked. “I digress. No need for apologies, it’s not like I sent you an RSVP.” He settled in his chair, crossing his legs and and toying idly with a fork. His eyes met Merle’s. “Well, I guess I just thought it’d be nice to have conversation over dinner; a more relaxed atmosphere allows for freer thinking and talking.” He paused, waved his hand. “After all, we are…”

“Friends.” Merle smiled at the human across from him. “Good to see you again John.”

John’s entire face lit up, and that was when it occurred to Merle that the human looked far healthier than he had the last time they’d met. No cracks or greying in his skin. He looked...alive and maybe even _well_.

Merle drew a breath and sighed. “John, look, I really hate to spoil the mood but...how? How am I here, hell, how are _you_ here, ‘cause...Pan, John, I really thought you were... _gone,_ like, forever, and I-”

In an instant, John’s expression darkened. “Merle. I know this is sudden and- really, I’m sorry for the surprise, but-” He huffed, pinched the bridge of his nose, “but I don’t know how long this will last, and I came here for you.” He looked imploringly at Merle, his left hand gripping the edge of the table, the other his fork. “I don’t want to have to argue about this now. I came here to talk with you, as a friend. _Please_ , Merle.”

There was a moment of quiet, aside from the manufactured murmuring in the background. Merle paused. Thought. Nodded. “Ok, John. Let’s talk.” At his words, John relaxed and resumed a state of composure.

Another smile, somewhat sheepish (a word Merle thought of as entirely removed from the guy) appeared on his face. “Thank you, Merle. Now, where shall we start?” He was interrupted as one of those indistinct figures approached his side, toting a platter holding a bottle of wine. The dwarf didn’t recognise the brand- couldn’t even read the language on the label.

“I hope you’ll enjoy this, Merle,” John said, pouring a glass for himself and his companion. The liquid was almost blood-like in colour. “This was an old favourite from where I used to come from, before...well. You know.” He raised his eyebrows at Merle and placed the bottle in the centre of the table, dismissing the waiter. Merle squinted at it as it drifted off into the haze of the rest of the room. Weird, but not all that different from what he’d previously seen John could do. It was just nice they weren’t attacking him.

John shook his head. “Anyways. Where were we?” He cradled the glass in his hand. “Ah. Well, I do want to ask- why _are_ you topless? In any other circumstances I’d argue it was for the sake of stubborn tradition, but you didn’t have time to plan.”

Merle tried his own drink. The flavour was...hard to describe. Sure, it tasted like wine-Merle wasn’t a critic but he knew enough about alcohol to identify the taste. Also to know that this wine wasn’t cheap, and he was sure a more cultured person could really go off on a tangent about just how great this drink was. The thing that perturbed him was subtle and hard to name. It was as if the taste wasn’t quite there in his mouth-like it was somewhere else entirely. More of a memory of an experience or a dream than just a flavour. He got so caught up in his thoughts that he almost entirely forgot the conversation.

“Merle?” John was looking at him with an air of concern.

“Huh? Oh! Sorry John, I was just, ah...admiring this wine! It’s great, really. What was I doing before this?” He put down his glass. “Maybe this is kinda boring, but I was just hangin’ out at the beach. Back in uh…” he waved his hand, “reality, it’s evening- like here, actually.” His eyes strayed to the window. That sunset- so orange, almost unnaturally so.

“I’ve always enjoyed sunsets,” John said, following Merle’s gaze. “It’s peaceful. A quiet sort of end; closure to the day I suppose. Been a while since I’ve seen a real one.”

Taking hold of his glass, Merle took a more ungainly gulp of wine, and nodded enthusiastically. “Oh boy, John, I’m tellin’ ya- this just doesn’t compare! The colours are just crazy- pinks, oranges, reds, yellows. It’s my favourite time of day, man. Pan, I really wish you could see it-Bottlenose Cove has this unbelievable view of the sky-

John’s attention snapped from the view to Merle. “Bottlenose Cove? What’s that?”

“Oh yeah-I forgot you didn’t know about that. Guess what?”

“What, Merle?” John had a repressed grin creeping into the corners of his mouth.

The dwarf spread his hands in a display of splendour. “ _I,_ Merle Hitower Highchurch, am the _Earl_ of Bottlenose Cove!”

Eyes wide, John almost spat out his drink. He swallowed hurriedly and fell into a peal of bewildered laughter. “An _Earl?_ ” he repeated.

“Yup, that’s right! Bet you didn’t expect that from me, huh? In fact, I can’t even really believe it. I mean, have you seen me?

Shaking his head, John rested his elbow on the table; his palm pressed to his forehead. “Every time I meet you, Merle, I am more and more surprised by who you are. How long ago was this, anyways?”

Merle racked his brain. Time was elusive to him; it had been slipping away from him like a fish at the end of a rod for years now. Maybe all the sun rays were finally starting to melt his brain. He snapped his fingers, finally remembering. “Ah- four years ago! That’s it. Sorry for the delay-my mind isn’t the steel trap it used to be,” the dwarf said.

“Four _years_?” the human echoed. He looked pale. “Hm. Is it possible for a stretch of time to feel both incredibly longer and incredibly shorter than that?”

“I try not to think about time all that much. It’s kind of a bummer.”

The human hummed in agreement. “You’re right. It is a ‘bummer’. I’m making an effort not to be one of those nowadays.” Both parties’ attentions were diverted to the returning waiter. It held another two of those silver platters; this time covered with handled domes. In several fluid, almost gelatinous, movements, the waiter placed the platters in front of the two and promptly left.

“Not very talkative, huh. I’ll make a note of that on my Fantasy-Yelp review,” Merle quipped, peering into the blurry reflection of himself the platter bore.

“Fantasy-Yelp?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The human chuckled. “Fine, I won’t. I was going to ask- do you enjoy your job? Being Earl?”

“Bein’ Earl?” The dwarf scratched his beard absently. “Yeah, I guess it’s fine. Lord Artemis Sterling- he appointed me, y’know- well, it is cool to know so many important people. We met each other in Wonderland- Pan, I’ll have to tell you about that later. Anyways, we went through some shit together.” He paused. “But then- I guess I _am_ an important person. One of the seven birds and all that junk. I’m a...celebrity?”

“You can thank me later.”

Merle gave a hearty laugh and wiped a tear from his eye with his wooden hand. His mind lighted on Pan for a brief moment- he wondered if his God would be pleased with this encounter- before the thought was gone and he was fixating on his platter. “Say, uh- what’s up with these?”

John shrugged. “If I’m perfectly honest, Merle, I’m not sure. Our meals, I suppose.”

“But we didn’t order.

“I don’t think we need to. Go ahead- dig in!” John removed the lid of his dish and placed it to the side of him. It vanished as his hand dipped behind the table.

Hesitantly, Mere did the same. He blinked in the heat and steam that rose from the plate, and then again in surprise. He was staring at a bowl of the stew he had used to eat back at home- not FaeRûn. Before that, on the plane with two suns. It smelt like...somewhere so far away he couldn’t even see it. It smelt like a part of his history that Merle hadn’t even known existed until five years ago. It was a meal he hadn’t smelt in over a hundred years. Something in the dwarf’s chest ached a little. He picked up the bread roll beside it and numbly took a bite.

John appeared equally as surprised by his meal. It was some kind of seafood dish. “This was my favourite, back on my old plane,” he told Merle, but also himself. “We didn’t get to eat it much because this fish was so rare- it was expensive and hard to grab before anyone else took it.” The human was quiet for a moment. “Huh. Well- it would be a shame to waste this, right, Merle?”

Around a mouthful of bread (it was just like he remembered, right down to the seeds on the crust) Merle agreed. “Waste not, want not.” Eating the stew was like biting into a cloud. The two ate in silence for a few moments. The dwarf was experiencing a strange, slightly dissociative state of mind. His companion roused him out of it by clearing his throat.

“How is it?” John asked.

“Huh? Oh, great, actually.  Like mom used to make, I think. What were we talking about?

“You being an earl.”

“Oh, right!” Merle lifted the bowl to his chin and drank thoughtfully. He slurped and John hid a smile. “It’s fine, ya know, nothing more than a title really.” Merle wiped his beard with the back of his hand. “The place is nice. But the thing I really love is my group- Extreme Teen Adventures.”

“What’s that?”

“Ah, well, ya see. After the whole- Story and Song thingymajig- I got restless with just relaxin’ and fuckin’ around so I figured, hey, kids are takin’ an interest to Pan- why not encourage it? So I get groups of kids together and I teach ‘em stuff! Ya know- how to make fires, follow a map, identify leaves and shit. Useful skills. But the heart of it is spending time together and being in nature, really. They love it. Makes me feel like I’m being useful too!” He chuckled.

John was quiet, his face soft and pale. When he smiled, his eyes were creased and sad. “That sounds really, really nice Merle.”

“You...ok John?”

“Yes.” He pushed his meal away, largely uneaten, and their empty plates dissipated. “I’m fine. I just wish I could be there for it.”

“I- well. Yeah. I wish you could be too.” Merle drank from his glass again- drinking until the whole thing was gone and he was feeling a margin dizzier for it. He sighed; rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye to try and soothe the growing headache. “Is there- _anything_ I can do? Is there?

John grimaced. “Merle, I-”

“Because- look, maybe you wouldn’t think it, but ever since you disappeared I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Really. Every day, John.”

The human’s eyes were wide, and for once he was silent and listening. Merle knew how much he loved the sound of his own voice (and lucky for him it was a very nice voice), anything to fill the silence, but now he was clammed up. Merle watched him swallow. He hadn’t really taken notice of it before but John’s neck was thin and delicate, much like the rest of it when it all came down to it.

“I beat myself up over it, you know?” Merle laughed incredulously. There was a distinct lack of subtle hubbub in the atmosphere. The tables were blurrier than ever. “I beat myself up over not saving _the bad guy_!

“You- you- don’t say that, Merle. Please.” John stood up from his chair and it wasn’t there anymore. He’d begun to wring his hands. “This isn’t like you, you know I changed-”

Merle threw up his hands. “What makes you think you _know_ me John?”

Something like betrayal passed over John’s face. “ _Merle._ We’ve known each other for _decades._ What, does that not mean anything now?” For the first time in maybe ever, he looked flustered. His neat salt-and-pepper hair was coming undone and his brow was furrowed and pinched.

“John, what is my favourite colour?

“That isn’t-”

“My favourite food?”

“How does that-”

“My favourite song? My worst fear? The name of my hometown?”

The human looked down and out. He shuffled in place. The room was clear and clean and white again. Merle felt empty.

“Yeah. Right. You don’t know any of it. And, what a surprise, I don’t know any of that about you, funnily enough!”

John’s voice was quiet and even shaky. He smoothed a hand over the side of his face like it would wipe away how anxious he looked. “We- our relationship still _means_ something.” His voice cracked. “Right?

Merle tilted his head upward. The roof was gaping open like a hungry mouth and the whole mess of organs that was the pulpy orange sky was on display. He watched it squirm. “Of course it means something. That’s just the fuckin’ thing, John. It literally means everything to me, and we never just _existed_ together. It was always a fight.”

When he looked down, the floor was grass. Thick, green grass, plains and plains of it. There were hills and mountains and more of that pumpkin-gut sky. Merle slumped to the floor and grounded himself in the earth. “You just show up outta nowhere, and it has to be ok with me.”

John was standing above him. Maybe once their positions would’ve intimidated Merle, but now all he could see in his friend was a defiant child. His chin was set but quaking. He had his jacket slung over his arm.

“I can’t be ok with this. I _can’t._ I’ve tried and I can’t.” Merle’s brain throbbed. Shit, it hurt

John sat beside him, hunching his ridiculous, stalkish legs. “Aren’t you happy? Not just- to see me but in your life? Isn’t that what you said all was about?” He looked desperate then, eyes all hurt like he’d been lied to.

Merle pulled a hunk of grass out of the hand. “Pan, yeah, of course John. But that isn’t just a magical cure-all to the fact that you killed me dozens of times and then just _left_ and I thought one of the people who knew me the best in the entire multiverse was fuckin’ evaporated!” He groaned, and the groan rose to a shout, up into nothing. Merle thumped the earth. “Shit! How do Magnus and Taako _live_ with all of this!”

“Who do you talk to about this? Any of this, John? Who do you tell when you see ghosts everywhere you cast your eyes, who do you talk to about getting older and closer to death? What do you do when you can talk to your own fuckin’ God, and you want, no, _need_ to do right by him because you are _his?”_

Merle drew in an angry, ragged breath, squeezing so hard against the grass that the green blood stained his hands.

“Do you have answers for that John? Do you? Or did you just come here because, _hey, won’t it be nice to fuck with my old gullible pal Merle Highchurch before fuckin’ back off into non-existence again so he can mourn me for a second time?_ Because if you did then we can just cut this short and I’ll take my leave, thanks. Kill me again, for old times sakes, won’t you?”

Merle stayed fixed on middle distance. The sky was darker now, a bruised purplish black. He was tired and sweaty and felt like shit. He felt all washed out and up- Pan, fuck, maybe he really was. Not like anyone back home would really notice his absence. He was a figurehead, more than anything. A “hero.” What a joke. He was such a joke.

He collected himself, bit by bit. Just about. Until his breathing had evened and Merle wasn’t on the verge of having a full-on breakdown. He scooped his hair back into its bun and came to notice how cool the air was. He looked over to John, half-expecting him to have gone.

Instead, he was crying.

John was not a pretty crier. He was kinda ugly, even. When he was unruffled- all smoothed out and pristine- Merle had always thought of him as one of those beautiful marble sculptures. Delicate and unreadable and damn near perfect. Now he was all screwed up and red and folded over himself. He was trying to clear it away with his hands but there were too many tears to keep up with and he was losing the battle fast.

Merle’s chest ached. “Shit. John? John, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve.” He got closer to him; hesitated before taking John’s face in his hands and clearing away the wetness with his thumbs. “Shush. Stop cryin’ it ain't the end of the world.”

The sobbing trickled away. John hauled his breaths in and out and sniffed hard. He was coming apart at the seams in Merle’s palms and seemed to lean into the warm, calloused touch. He opened his eyes and looked at his friend. Shame poured out of him so quick Merle could almost taste it.

“I’m a mess, Merle,” he croaked, shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, but Gods it’s all just so scary.”

“That makes the two of us.” Merle smiled.

John laughed weakly, and then he was lifting his hand to Merle’s and linking their fingers. And Merle didn’t really know how it happened (maybe it had something to do with how sad and familiar John looked in the blue light or how empty and aching he felt) but then they were kissing.

And it was nice. It was really, really nice. Pan, it was like getting into bed after a long day. He’d wanted this, without really knowing it.  John sighed a little and, tentatively, found Merle’s hair and bunched his hand in it.

“Shit,” Merle said when they were apart.

John was red and all of him was totally open. He looked too small, now. “Shit indeed.”

Merle swallowed and all of a sudden felt exposed. He chuckled. “D’ya think that was a long time coming?”

“Oh, Merle.” John smiled. “I’ve wanted _that_ for the better part of a century, you dense bastard.”

Merle felt stupid. And happy. Stupid, more than anything. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. _I’m_ sorry.” John licked his lips. “I’m unfair- always am. I didn’t even think about your feelings. I just-” He flushed. “I just really, really wanted to see you and I’d finally worked up the energy to make it to you. I didn’t want to wait.”

“Fuck, John.” Merle’s head echoed pain once more. He sucked in a breath. “Fuck. When...when will you be back? _Will_ you be back?”

“I’m going to try my damn best. You just gave me incentive to work twice as hard at it, too.” John still looked nervous. Something told Merle he hadn’t done anything like this before. It was...cute? Oh, Pan, it _was._ Merle’s affinity for horrifying murderous entities was almost as bad as his predilection towards foliage.

“I’ll wait for you. I- be safe. If you can John.” The pain in Merle’s head was so strong now- white and cold and searing. He made a low noise in the back of his throat and tried not to double over or throw up or both.

“I- Merle. Shit. Merle?” John’s voice was faint and far away and the sensation of his touch receded. “Merle? I-” He faltered for a moment. “I love you.”

It was all gone before Merle could reply, and he was suddenly on the beach of Bottlenose Cove. The sky was dark and the sea was cold. He was alone.


End file.
